


It Wasn't Supposed to Be

by InFamousHero



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, F/F, Mutual Pining, Vignette, the yearning norse women have slain me Your Honour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:40:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27844627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InFamousHero/pseuds/InFamousHero
Summary: It’s in that moment that Eivor feels like a cuckoo, poised to fill a space that doesn’t belong to her and never did.AKAThe ruins scene if Eivor has been desperately in love with Randvi the whole time but is equally desperate about avoiding Valka's prediction.
Relationships: Eivor/Randvi (Assassin's Creed)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 128





	It Wasn't Supposed to Be

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from the song "I Found" by Amber Run.

It feels like lightning when Randvi kisses her, wrenching apart her ribs and pulling her heart out through her throat—she can’t think. She can’t _move_ , she can only focus on the warmth and softness of Randvi’s lips and the hesitant brush of hands on her shoulder and neck.

The sweet smell of bluebells floats around her head, very nearly coaxing her to relax until Valka’s warning burns through her mind.

Oh, how sure she was, how ardently she denied the possibility of ever doing such a thing, no matter the cold dread weighing down her heart because somewhere in its dark and lonely corners she knew _exactly_ what Valka was talking about.

Valka always knew.

Eivor blinks and pretends she doesn’t feel a sting, pretends her throat doesn’t try to close on itself. She knows she should do something, stop this, it’s just the mead, and it could only be the mead, because the possibility of Randvi genuinely feeling something for her is too painful to bear.

But she hasn’t reacted at all, and that alone makes Randvi pull away, alarm and guilt making her fidget, stumbling over words of apology and…

_“The truth of it is I have felt this way for some time now. I care for you, Eivor.”_

For the first time in Eivor’s life, the urge to _flee_ nearly takes possession of her legs. She fights it down, pride rooting her to the spot just as surely as the desire to reach out and reignite that kiss does. She fights that too, keeping her arms at her sides like a pair of metal rods.

Randvi looks at her with hopeful eyes, warm and pleading.

It feels like a bear trap laid just for her and Eivor struggles not to take the bait. This was her fault, a panicked corner of her mind reasons, as a too familiar presence in Sigurd’s absence.

It’s in that moment that Eivor feels like a cuckoo, poised to fill a space that doesn’t belong to her and never did.

Randvi’s brows draw together in a look that makes her stomach twist. “Eivor…?”

“Don’t apologise,” Eivor murmurs. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

Randvi takes a step towards her. “I’d believe that more if you didn’t look so stricken.”

Eivor reflexively takes a step back, her mind and heart screaming at each other, pulling in opposite directions. It feels like a thunderstorm is roiling in her chest, black and roaring. “You haven’t done anything wrong,” she says again, wetting her lips. She tries not to notice the flick of Randvi’s eyes when she does it. “But I cannot do this to my brother, I _will not_ , no matter how much I…” she bites back the words too late.

Realisation hits Randvi’s face that this wasn’t just a mead-fuelled slip to be laughed off and brushed away but a lance into something soft and vulnerable Eivor never wanted to lay bare. Perhaps if she were a better person Eivor wouldn’t have allowed such a foolish want to lay down roots within her, but she was, to her detriment, as flawed as anyone else. Perhaps more so.

The guilt makes it feel as if Randvi can burn her with a look. “Oh, Eivor,” she says, so gently it nearly makes Eivor flinch. “I’m so sorry.”

She tries to approach again and Eivor steps back, far too quick. Her heel finds no purchase.

Time slows as she tips back, a half-second weightlessness seizing her heart as surely as the blossoming fear on Randvi’s face does, and her feet leave the brickwork.

Instinct makes her right herself mid-fall, tucking her arms in and plunging feet first into the water, a cold deluge to wash away the heat of shame and want. She lingers beneath the surface, staring up at the shimmering ruins and Randvi’s blue smear at the very top, some dark corner of her thoughts wondering if it would have been a mercy to fall incorrectly, allow the cuckoo to be pushed out instead of its intended victim.

The yell of her name is muffled and distant.

She breaches the water, splashes echoing off the ruined tower walls.

Randvi calls down to her. “Eivor! Eivor, are you alright?”

Eivor, numb and breathless, does her best to sound unperturbed. “Perfectly!” And without waiting for any more questions she begins swimming to shore.

She hears Randvi ask her to wait, and she does, because it would cruel not to, but she has no more talk in her and neither does Randvi as they saddle up in agonising silence for the ride home. Despite everything, she can’t bring herself to push Randvi from holding onto her, a little too close for the matter to be entirely at rest, and she knows that concession is a crack in the flagstones for roots to find purchase.

She knows too, that it's only a matter of time before it breaks her.

**Author's Note:**

> I had some more thoughts and feelings I had to get out between working on original stuff, and I kept thinking about how the scene could have gone if I just added more yearning and Drama™


End file.
